Alibi
by ladylily101
Summary: I'll come up with a summary when I finish, all right? :D
1. Ode To Joy

**Title:** _~Alibi_

**Summary:** None yet.

**Category:** Soul Eater

**Rating:** T for perverted comments and possible swearing. :D

**Pairings:** KidxOC, OCxOC, SoulxOC (the OC's are different, cause there are lots...)

**Written By:** _ladylily101_ and _xxxBlack-Opalxxx_ as a collaboration! Yes, it's another one!

**

* * *

AN from _xxxBlack-Opalxxx_****: Haha, first chapter! Naku nagged me Dx well, it's short-ish, but fairly good.**

**AN from _ladylily101_: OMG! Another collab! Includes LOTS of OCs, which isn't what I prefer to do most of the time, but it's fun to have OCs to use every so often. Hope you guys like! :D  
**

CHAPTER 1: Ode To Joy**  
**

**Damian's POV:**

I ran through the hallway... Well the past 50 hallways... unliked, unloved, unsettled. A huge pain in the ass to everyone I'd ever met. Right now all my considerable talent and strength was totally focused on one thing: Getting to class on time.

I approached my homeroom, almost out of breath from the excessive running I had done to get there.

I reached for the doorknob, before pulling my hand back, and considering skipping the first day of school to avoid having to explain why I was so late.

Upon deciding that was an awful idea, I continued on my way in to meet the other students.

"Hello?" A man with gray hair and a screw in the side of his head turned to stare at me.

"I, uh-" I felt my self grow pink, "Sorry I'm late sir!"

"Mmmm…" The teacher narrowed his eyes, as if examining me, "Damian right?"

I nodded.

"Care to explain why you're late?"

I blinked, "Uh…"

Usually the teacher wouldn't put a new student on the spot, to be humiliated in front of the whole class.

"I got lost…" I sighed.

"Common mistake." He looked back at me, obviously confused at why I was so embarrassed about the whole ordeal; "I'm your teacher, Dr. Stein."

"I know." I glanced at the rest of the class, only to notice that many of the technicians were busy picking out who they wanted to use as their weapons.

"Everyone has already introduced themselves, why don't you do the same?" Dr. Stein pushed back from his desk, putting his feet up.

I nodded, and turned around to face the class, "Hey, I'm Damian!"

"I'm Alexia, nice to meet you. Technician or weapon?" A girl across the room shot at me.

"Weapon." I stated plainly.

"What kind of weapon?" Dr. Stein shot me an annoyed look.

"I, uh…" I blinked, "Um."

As the class continued to stare at me, I felt myself grow redder.

"I can change into a battle axe sir! An axe!" I finally managed to spit out.

A couple of kids, obviously technicians, shot glances at each other and walked over to me.

Alexia, the girl from before, was one of them.

"That's a nice weapon." A boy, who probably stood about a foot taller than me smirked.

"Any technician preferences?" another kid asked.

"Girl." I replied quickly.

A tad too quickly.

A couple of kids started laughing, "We have a player over hereeeeeeee!"

It took a couple of seconds to realize the message that what I had just said sent out.

"I-I didn't mean that-" I stammered.

"Nah, it's ok man, we're all like that!" someone punched me lightly on the arm.

I turned around to see who it was.

Alexia, it seemed, had been the one.

I stared at her for a moment, before stating rather bluntly, "I want her."

"I, uh- what?" Alexia blinked, "Sorry, you can't just claim me."

I narrowed my eyes, "Why not?"

"Our soul wavelengths probably aren't even compatible!"

"Then let's find out, shall we?" I sighed.

And then I transformed.

I was rather proud of my weapon form, from the red ribbon that matched the tone of my favorite scarf to the oddly patterned triangles all across the blade.

"Oooo..." I heard people exclaim across the room.

"Very nice," said Alexia appreciatively.

She picked me up easily, and swung me around a bit.

"Well proportioned, not too heavy, nice long blades," I heard her murmuring to herself.

Alexia quickly spun about and whacked one of the other students.

"OWWW!!!" they exclaimed, as red, orange, and yellow sparkles flew from the edges of the axe blade and I acted on instinct.

"LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LALA," I sang to the tune of "Ode to Joy," and everyone covered their ears.

Alexia dropping me in the process of doing so.

"Warn me next time you do that, okay?" she said once I had transformed back.

"Sorry," I mumbled, and then looked up at her. "Next time?"

"Yeah, next time. Our soul wavelengths seem to match pretty well, and having a battle-axe will be pretty cool. So, you still wanna be my weapon?"

I nodded enthusiastically.

Alexia stuck out her hand to help me up, and Dr. Stein clapped his hands.

"Alright, class, those two are taken! Each of you need to hurry up and choose a technician or weapon, depending on which you are yourself. Weapons, come up to the front of the class and say what weapon you are to speed up the process a little."

About half the class went up, and began introducing themselves.

There were a handful of swords, a one-sided axe, a cannon, a couple club-like things, a kanabo, a morning star, a surujin, a crossbow, and a bow and arrow.

The technician that ended up with the one-sided axe glared at me and Alexia, as if it were our fault that they were getting a measly one-sided axe as opposed to a cool battle axe.

Iris, a technician Alexia had been talking to while the weapons demonstrated what they were, pointing out their pros and cons, chose the bow and arrow, a shy girl and her brother that liked to stay transformed as much as possible.

As the rest of the technicians finished picking their weapons, Alexia and I sat in our seats, conversing.

Until my eyes began to involuntarily start following a few girls around the room.

Well, it was partially involuntarily.

"Damn, it's gotta be illegal to look that good." I muttered before I could catch myself.

"Pardon!?"

"Oh, um, nothing!" I said quickly, but I felt the tops of my ears get a bit pink, so I shook my hair a bit to cover them.

Alexia glared at me suspiciously as she continued our conversation.

I tried to concentrate on what she was saying, but my eyes, once again (though slightly more involuntarily this time), began examining the girls that walked back and forth in front of Alexia and me.

Suddenly, I stood up and walked quickly over to one of the girls right in the middle of one of Alexia's sentences.

"and so I guess-Hey! What are you doing?" she exclaimed.

"Hey there," I said, making my voice deeper, "I've forgotten my phone number...can I have yours?"

The girl blinked a couple times, then walked off quickly.

"Damian, what are you doing?!" said Alexia.

"Trying to pick up some girls." I sighed, before coming back over and sitting down.

I glanced over at Alexia for a moment, and after getting past the disgusted look she had on her face, I realized she was quite attractive herself.

"So…" I smiled, scooting a little closer to her.

Then, going on a whim, I placed my arm around her shoulder.

What happened next hadn't been what I was expecting.

"Get off of me!" Alexia screamed and hit me.

Rather hard if I do say so myself.

I grabbed her wrist, hoping to calm her down. And get her to be quite before she attracted too much attention.

Instead, she screamed, "SEXUAL ASSAULT!"

So I let go, and quickly moved myself to the other side of the room.

But when I sat down again, I couldn't get the picture of Alexia out of my head.

**AN from _xxxBlack-Opalxxx_****:**** WIN! I'M DONE WITH IT MAY AND NAKU! BE HAPPY!!!**

**AN from _ladylily101_: Epic win. Please review!! (Chapter 2 should be up soonish, btw).  
**


	2. Bow and Arrow

******AN from _xxxBlack-Opalxxx_****:** gawd, finally ch 2 xD

**AN from _ladylily101_: I claim full ownership of Alexia's diary entry at the end. WIN!**

CHAPTER 2: Bow and Arrow

**Alexia's POV:**

A few days had passed since the pairs of technicians and weapons had been established.

Since the first day, Iris and I had been hanging out together, and today we had arranged to practice using our weapons.

I was eager to finally meet her weapons – a bow and arrow sibling pair – that I had seen in their human form once.

And though that seemed a little bit overly shy, I sometimes wished that Damian would be in his weapon form more often; since the first day, we had realized that though our soul's wavelengths were an almost perfect match, our personalities were not, in any way, shape, or form.

While Damian was loud, perverted, and overall psycho, I was somewhat secluded, quiet, and tried my best to be mysterious.

Nevertheless, when he was in his weapon form, he rarely talked, so that was all right.  
Until I hit something.

Then he started screeching something, which, according to him, was the tune of "Ode to Joy," but to the rest of the sane world, sounded more like a cross between a dying animal and those annoying squeaky toys you give to dogs.

Except multiplied by about 10 jillion in worse-ness.

I had taken to wearing earmuffs whenever I fought; instances of which, up until now, had been thankfully few and far between.

But today, we would be fighting, and as we walked out the door, I remembered to grab them.

Damian hadn't even bothered to ask why I was wearing earmuffs in such warm weather – he probably already knew, or else was just extremely imperceptive.

It could have been either.

…

"Hey Alexia! Hey Damian!" called Iris from across the training grounds.

"Hey Iris!" I waved back.

At first I didn't recognize the two people standing next to her, but then I realized that they could only be her weapons.

"Alexia, Damian, you haven't been formally introduced to my weapons. This is Beau," she said, gesturing at the boy, "and this is Arra," she said, pointing at the girl.

"Bow and Arrow? Like your names match what you transform into? Cool!" exclaimed Damian, "I wish my name was Axe, that would be awesome!"

_You SMELL like Axe, anyway_, I thought.

Beau and Arra's faces showed no emotion.

"No, our names are Beau and Arra," said Beau calmly.

Damian nodded slowly, as if Beau was stupid. "Yeah, that's what I said: BOW and ARROW."

Still, the siblings didn't show any emotion at all, and the conversation lagged.

I noticed Damian inching towards Arra, but the implications of that didn't really hit me until he slipped his arm around her waist.

"Heeey baby," he said, "You free tonight?"

Arra's eyes became wide, as if she was a frightened rabbit. Then, faster than I could blink, she transformed into a pile of arrows with a clatter.

Damian, who had been leaning on Arra, fell over.

Turning, I saw a very red-faced Beau being told to "take deep breaths" by Iris.

I then concluded that he probably had some slight (or not so slight) anger management issues.

"Cut it out," I whispered to Damian as he stood up, "Or Bow might have a murder on his hands."

"You're just jealous," he said back, flipping his hair and getting it stuck in his mouth in the process, so he had to spend a couple minutes spitting it out.

"Jealous of dying? Not particularly…" I said back.

"No, (ptew) jealous of (ptew) Arrow," he replied.

I glared at him. "I'm not jealous of her, or any other girls you've ever come in contact with."

"You suuure…?" he said, putting his arm around my shoulder.

Within seconds, I had spun around and slapped him.

Damian clutched his cheek, which had turned pink. "What was that for?"

"What do you think?!"

"Well sorry!" he growled at me.

Yet another rift being formed between Damian and I.

He was constantly trying to hit on me, which, by terms that had been established earlier, was forbidden.

This was obviously going to cause a problem at some point along the way, seeing as our time at Shibusen had really only begun.

Unbeknownst to us, while Damian and I had been having our little argument, Beau and Arra had started their own little spat.

"So all trees have bark, and all dogs bark, so dogs are trees, right?" Beau said forcefully.

A high, floaty voice, that seemed to come from Arra, responded. "No, Beau, dogs are animals, and trees are plants. We learned this in preschool, remember?"

"NO," replied Beau, obviously angry that he couldn't remember.

"It was the middle of March, there was a high of 64 degrees, it got sunny around noon, you were wearing a black shirt and tan shorts, I was wearing the purple dress that had flowers around the bottom…"

Beau shook his head, breathing more heavily. "I DON"T KNOW!"

"The teacher was wearing a hot pink mini skirt," Beau's breathing suddenly stopped.

"Oh yeah!"

Damian grinned. "Bow is a perv!"

Beau started to breathe very loudly again.

"Guys, can we just practice now?" Iris exclaimed.

"Oh, right." I said.

"Practice," said Damian, as if he had never heard the word before, "Okay!"

After practicing for a while, a few things happened.

First, I decided to start calling Damian, Damina, behind his back.

Second, Iris decided to start wearing earmuffs too.

And third, Beau and Damian, though in weapon form, started fighting about anything and everything.

Damian suddenly transformed back into a human, and dashed over to a group of people walking past.

"Damian, what are you-?" I began.

He immediately walked up to a white haired boy, and asked, "Are you old?"

The boy gaped at him, but before he could say anything, Damian turned to a boy with three white stripes on the right side of his hair.

"1…2…3…you're 3/6 old! Except it's just on the right side, so you're 3/12 old! Which means you're a quarter old!"

The boy in question suddenly pulled out two guns from his pockets.

"AHHH DON'T SHOOT ME PLEASE DON'T SHOOT ME!" screamed Damian, crouching down and curling into a ball.

When he looked up a minute later, the stripy kid was lying on the ground, crying and screaming, "I'm not symmetrical! I am an abomination, I should die!"

Damian stared. "What? I'm not dead?"

Suddenly, the guns that had fallen by stripy kid's side transformed into two girls.

One of them started laughing as soon as she saw stripy kid having his tantrum, and the other began to lecture him.

"Stop groveling and get off the floor Kid!"

As the girl continued to yell at stripy kid, I ran up to the group.

"I'm so sorry, Damian here just has some issues, so…"

But Soul and Damian had started up a conversation of their own.

"Where do you get the idea that I'm old!?" Soul had finally managed to come out of his state of shock, and reply to Damian, "I don't have gray hair!"

"Gray hair is for when you're like 60, and only sorta old, when you're 90, you have white hair!" Damian shot back.

The two spent a moment staring each other down, before deciding that they weren't worth each other's time, and backing off.

I coughed, "Yeah, sorry again, I'm Alexia, and like I said before, Damian has issues."

I stuck out my hand to shake.

The white haired boy turned to look at me, and without offering his hand in return, said, "I'm Soul."

The two girls from earlier looked up at me as well, and one said, "I'm Liz, this is my sister Patty, and this one on the floor here is Death The Kid." She sighed, pointing to stripy kid.  
"Ah…" I nodded.

"I'm Maka!" A voice cheered behind me.

I turned around and saw a girl with very light brown hair sticking out her hand - the first one to extend that courtesy back to me.

We shook hands.

"Like I said, I'm Alexia, this is my weapon Damian, and over there," I said, turning, only to find that Iris, Beau, and Arra had walked over, "I mean right here are Iris, Beau, and Arra," I pointed at each one in turn.

"But we're calling them Bow and Arrow 'cause they turn into a bow and arrows!" exclaimed Damian.

Beau's breathing deepened as he glared at Damian.

"What weapon are you?" Soul asked Damian.

Damian grinned. "A battle axe!"

"Sweet! I'm a scythe," Soul replied, transforming his arm into a blade to prove his point.

"D'you wanna see what it looks like?" Damian asked.

"Sure," said Soul. Damian transformed almost instantly, and I grabbed the handle.

Death the Kid, a.k.a. stripy boy, looked up.

"It's... symmetrical..." he said, getting up slowly.

"Yeah…." Soul nodded.

"It's SO beautiful!" Kid cheeped, immediately grabbing the handle out of my palm, and beginning to examine Damian's weapon form.

As he continued, Damian made a series of squealing noises.

I finally decided it might be a good idea to tell Kid to stop.

…

I sat in my room, contemplating the events of earlier that day.

Before deciding that t would be a good plan to start filling out the dairy I had recently bought.

I flipped open to the first page and began to write:

_HAI THERE_

_MAH NAME IS ALEXIA  
THIS IS MAH FIRST EVER DIARY ENTERY  
IMMA TELL YOU WAT I DID TODAY_

_I HUNGED OUT WITH DAMIAN AND IRIS AND BOW AND ARROW_

_CEPT THERE NAMES ARE BEAU AND ARRA_

_BUT DAMIAN DUN LIKED THOSE NAMES_

_SO NOW THERE NAMES ARE BOW AND ARROW_

_AND SO ANYWAY_

_DAMIAN TRIEDED TO HIT ON MEH TODAY_

_BUT I KILLED HIM_

_SO EVERYTHINGS GOOD_

NOMNOMNOM

_AND_

_IRIS IS LIKE AMAHZING_

_CEPT AFTER I KILLED DAMIAN SHE POKED MEH._

_SO I KILLED HER TOO_

_AND THEN BOW AND ARROW GOT ANGRY_

_CEPT THEY DIDN'T ACTUALLY GET ANGERLY_

_CAUSE ARROW IS INCAPABUBBLE_

_AND BOW'S A GUY AND IM A PRETTY GIRL_

_BUT THEY KINDA GOT ANGRY_

_SO I DECAPITATED THEM_

_AND SO I KILLED THEM DED_

_BUT I DIDN'T ACTUALLY KILLZ THEM_

_CAUSE THAT WOULD BE MEANEH_

_(AND SORTA ILLEGAL)_

_AND PLUS THEY WOULDN'T BE WALKING AROUND RIGHT NOW_

_CAUSE THEY'D BE DED_

_(Oh and Damian is coming over here right now so I should probably stop writing in this)_

_BAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_

_(DAMIAN WHOSE DEDDDD!)_

_(HAHAHAHA)_

_(I KILLED HIM, REMEMBER)_

_(KILLED HIM DED)_

_P.S. damian has red hair_

_(AND HIS NEW NAME SHALL BE DAMINA)_

_(BAI)_

_(AGAIN)_

_(HAHAHA)_

_Sincerely, Alexia_

_A girl that's not actually mentally challenged_

_But likes to act like she is_

_ONLY IN HER DIARY THO_

_:O_

_AMAHZING, RITE?_

_GIGGLE_

_AAACK_

_I DIED_

_I DIED MEH DED_

_YAY_

_BAI NOW_

_REALLY, I MEAN IT THIS TIME_

_BAI_

…

_(DAMINA IS STARING AT ME)_

_(IMMA GO SHOOT HIM)_

_(CEPT HES ALREADY DED)_

_(GIGGLE)_

_(BAI)_

_-DED-_

******AN from _xxxBlack-Opalxxx_****:** :D Alexia is SPECIAL. But only in her diary. :D

**AN from _ladylily101_: Alexia is VERY SPECIAL. As is Damina. ;) Please review!  
**


	3. She's Symmetrical!

**AN from _xxxBlack-Opalxxx_****:**** HERE WE GO :D**

**AN from _ladylily101_: I think the only part of this chapter I wrote was the first 3 or 4 sentences...  
**

CHAPTER 3: She's Symmetrical!

**Damian's POV:**

Doing homework was never fun. Most of the time, I didn't do any, so it was alright. But today, Maka was making us all stay inside and work. Whining hadn't done any good, especially since Iris and Alexia were on Maka's side.

As usual, Beau and Arra had no say in the matter, and sat off on the side lines as Alexia and I debated.

I lost the argument, of course, and was stuck in the house finishing my essay on souls for the rest if the afternoon.

It wasn't long before I lost interest in my essay though, and I began to hum to the tune of "I've Been Working on the Railroad", changing the lyrics as necessary:

"I've been working on my homework

All the live long day!

I've been working on my homework,

cause' Maka's MAKING ME.

Can't you hear the others screaming,

at me to shut up?

Can't you hear the others shouting!"

"Damian you're a sucky singer! Shut up before I kill you or something!"

Soul had been the one to scream that last line at me.

Over the past few days, I had managed to make friends with the majority of Maka and Soul's group, with the exception of Soul himself.

We had our differences and would keep our distance, except for when Soul felt the need to tell me off.

Alexia was helping Soul with his essay, and I sat there watching jealously.

Ineptly trying to regain Alexia's focus, I began singing again:

"I've been working on my homework!

All the live long day!

I've been working on my homework!-"

"Damian SHUT UP! Some of us ARE trying to work you know!" Alexia growled, 'We WOULD like to focus!"

"Oh lighten up Alexia," Iris smiled, "He's only singing."

But because Alexia had been the one to snap at me, I stayed quiet until we were all done.

"We should probably go to turn in the essays now..." Maka sighed, "So we don't forget tomorrow?"

We all nodded.

...

"Now that that's out of the way..." Maka smiled, "Why don't we go see Shinigami about our next mission?"

We all shot each other doubtful looks, but then followed without complaint, not wanting to experience 'MAKA CHOP' again.

We walked for a while in our group, until we reached the path of guillotines.

"Damn that's freaky..." I blinked, "Why hang guillotines over a pathway to Shinigami...?"

Kid answered my question, "My father thinks it's foreboding."

"That's right..." I stared at Kid, "You're his son aren't you..? I keep forgetting."

"Yep." Kid nodded proudly, "I'm the son of the god of death!"

"Then who's the goddess of death?" Being the fairly insensitive person I was, I really found no problem asking such a question.

Kid shrugged, "Could be anyone, never bothered to ask."

"And that doesn't bother you one bit?" I narrowed my eyes, "You could be related to anyone of us!"

"That's impossible." Kid smirked, "That would never happen."

Slightly unsatisfied with Kid's reaction, but to weary to try and continue, I turned my attention once again to the path of guillotines.

I blinked, and an object flew from down the path, I heard Maka shout," Witch!"

Some of the others managed a more immediate reaction than me, and start attacking the witch as she flew the rest of the way out.

I turned to Kid, who was waving his arms and shouting at them to stop.

But it was no use, everyone was continuously attacking the witch.

Everyone was ignoring Kid's shout for them to stop; even Patty, the super happy and nice one, ignored him fully.

Everyone was attacking the witch senselessly.

I wasn't much of an idea person.

I was more of a fighter.

Alexia on the other hand, was the smart one, and most of the time came up with the ideas.

But I had to act now or one of us could end up being hurt, or killed, by this witch.

"Alexia! I'm going to transform! Grab me!"

Alexia did as I had told her to, and grabbed onto the axe handle as soon as I had fully changed.

What proceeded was a series of swings done by Alexia, and I found little need to focus on the actual battle at hand.

By the time I had refocused my mind, Alexia had pinned the witch down, stepped on her chest, and was threatening her neck with my blade.

I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing to experience my first kill, when Alexia suddenly stopped moving me around.

I opened my eyes again, and Kid had flung himself on top of the witch.

"You can't kill her! She's symmetrical!"

I could feel the anger in Alexia's soul wave length, "Move Kid!"

"She's symmetrical!" Kid repeated himself, not budging.

The witch looked at Kid in shock, before a bright light flashed, much like the one I set off when I transformed.

But what stood before us wasn't a weapon, it was a cat.

The cat witch scampered away, as Alexia screamed at Kid.

"Why didn't you move!? That would've been my first kill!"

"She was SYMMETRICAL!"

"I don't care!" Alexia snapped, holding me up to Kid's neck.

"Yo! Kids! Relax!"

We all turned, and found Shinigami walking down the pathway.

"Shinigami sir! There was a witch! And your son! He stopped us from kil-"

"Have any of you seen Naku? She has brown hair, and red eyes. She flew out before we could finish our conversation." Shinigami cut Alexia off, "She's probably that witch you just described."

"I-uh..." Alexia blinked, and looked around at the rest of us.

We were all at as much fault as she was, and it was obvious, because we had all transformed, and were being wielded by the technicians.

"Haven't seen her sir!" I stuck my head out of the axe blade.

The rest of us nodded.

**AN ****from _xxxBlack-Opalxxx_****: I WAS SOOOOOOOO RUSHED. May helped with this ch :D.... epic fail chapter =_= -dies-**

**AN from _ladylily101_: To make up for not writing any in this chapter, I wrote the entirity of the next one. :D  
**


	4. Foster Parents

**AN from _xxxBlack-Opalxxx_: you will DIE reading this chapter D: like [ladylily101] did writing it D: nuuuuuuu**

**AN from _ladylily101_: I wrote all of this – all 4 and a half pages of it. ;) Hope you like! And yes, this is relevant to the story, kay? It might not seem like it at first, but it is.**

CHAPTER 4: Foster Parents

The boy is silent as his mother sets him down in the chair and goes to talk with the lady at the desk.

He hopes it's not a doctor's appointment, and so he listens, ready to have a fit if need be. As he catches little snippets of the conversation, it doesn't really sound like it's an appointment.

"We just can't afford to keep..." he hears his mother say.

Keep what? the boy wonders. Perhaps it is the goldfish they got a few months ago, maybe this is a place that takes care of goldfish; after all, there is a large fish tank over in the corner.

Swinging his pudgy legs a little, the toddler decides to go and look at the fish, and stops trying to listen to his parents as he is entranced by the bright colors.

Pressing his nose against the glass, he whispers, "Goldy is going to live with you I think. Goldy is a nice fish."

The boy barely notices as his parents come over and pick him up. When he looks at them, taking his eyes away from the fish, he notices his mother is crying.

"Mommy, why you crying?" he asks her.

At this, fresh tears spring to his mother's eyes.

Kissing the top of the boy's head, she says, "Remember that we'll always love you, okay? Mommy and Daddy love you very very much."

"I love you too," the boy replies, but all that he wants to do is get back to the fish, so he squirms out of his mother's arms.

"Bye sweetie," his father says, as his mother rushes out, sobbing, "We love you."

"Bye?" the boy asks, confused. Why isn't he coming with his parents?

"Yes, we have to go," the man says.

Trying to come up with an answer, the boy frowns. "To go get Goldy to bring here?"

His father crouches down to look at his son. "Get Goldy?" he asks, just as confused as the boy.

"Mommy told the lady we couldn't afford Goldy, so we going to put Goldy here with the other fishies, right? So you and Mommy are getting Goldy to give to the lady," the boy says with certainty.

"Y-yes," chokes out his father, "we're getting Goldy. Now, the lady at the desk's name is Carol, you can go ask her if you need anything."

The boy nods, turning his head back to the fish.

"Bye Daddy!" he waves as his father walks off.

"Bye," comes the response, and the boy thinks he hears his father beginning to cry as the door shuts.

Why are they crying? the boy thinks. They hadn't ever shown that much interest in Goldy, and his father had always said that he'd rather have a dog if they weren't in the city.

The boy shrugs, and smiles as he watches the fish chase each other around the tank. But after a while, he wonders why his parents aren't back yet, surely it hadn't taken this long to come here.

Though he had always been told not to talk to strangers, his father had told him to ask the lady if he needed anything, so the boy walks over to the woman.

Glancing up, she smiles at him. "Yes?"

"Where are Mommy and Daddy?" he asks her.

"Oh," she says, and her smile fades, "They didn't tell you?"

The 5 year old frowns. "They said they were getting Goldy to bring to put in the tank with the other fishies," he points at the object in question, then continues, "Why aren't they back yet?"

The woman sighs, and smiles sadly at the boy. "They're not coming back," she explains.

"What do you mean?" the boy's voice is quivering, he is on the verge of tears. "Daddy said they'd come back with Goldy! He said!"

The woman stands up and comes around to the front of the desk. "Shh, it's all right, you're just going to have different people taking care of you, that's all."

Sobbing, the boy looks up. "But I want my Mommy back!" he wails, "I don't want a new Mommy or Daddy!"

"Shh, it'll be all right, come with me," the woman says, reaching for his hand.

She leads him to a room behind her desk and puts him onto a couch. Rummaging around in some cabinets, she fishes out some chocolate chip cookies, that, though stale, are still edible, and the boy calms down as he eats them.

"Your new parents will be here soon," she tells him as she hands him a couple more cookies and a few picture books, "I'll just be at my desk, you can see me through the door. Tell me if you need anything."

The boy nods, and grabs a book, flipping through it just to look at the pictures; he doesn't feel like reading if his parents aren't there to help with unknown words.

As he moves on to the next book, he hears the door at the front open, and a couple, who looked to be in their late 20s or early 30s walk in. They are both tall, the man very muscular, and the woman very pretty and wearing a lot of make up.

The couple walk up to the lady at the desk, and the man speaks to her in a deep voice.

"We're here to pick up the boy," he says.

Meanwhile, the woman has been looking around, and now she spots the little boy in the back room.

"Oh! Is that him?" she asks excitedly.

The lady turns around in her swivel chair and smiles at the boy. "Yes, that's him."

"You're so adorable!" the woman exclaims as she rushes back towards him. She extends out her hand as if to shake, "I'm your new mother!"

The boy frowns. "You're not my mother!"

A shadow seems to pass over the woman's face, but it goes away so quickly the boy might have been imagining it.

"Come along, then," she says brusquely, most of the cheer gone from her voice.

"Everything's in order, so you can just take him," says the lady at the desk to the man as the woman and boy walk back out to the main area.

Turning her gaze to the little boy, she says, "Bye, my dear, good luck," and gives him a quick hug.

The three of them - man, woman, and child - walk out of the foster agency, and the little boy takes one last glance at the lady at the desk, at the fish, at the chair his mother, his real mother, set him down on only a few hours ago.

It was a quiet, but long, car ride to the couple's house - they had to get out of the main city, into the suburbs, where there were actually houses, not just apartment blocks.

When they got into the house, the boy was surprised to hear the woman speak; they had gone so long in silence that it was odd to hear any voice at all.

"Now, we must make some things clear. First, you will not tell anyone what goes on in this house. Second, we are your new parents. Third, because we're your parents, you will love us whatever we do."

"You're not my parents!" the boy exclaims adamantly.

"We ARE your parents," says the woman venomously, crouching down.

"No you're-" the boy begins, but the woman slaps him across the face.

"Lydia, remember, no marks on the face, or else the police notices," says the man.

The pain suddenly reaches the boy, who had been momentarily too shocked to do anything, and he starts to cry.

The shadow that is now over the woman's face is no longer in the boy's imagination. "Shut up, you brat!"

The boy whimpers, but cannot stop crying.

"You're not my Mommy!" he screams, and is somewhat surprised when he doesn't get the expected slap. Instead, the woman is waiting for the man to come back from the kitchen.

When he comes in, the man is carrying a rolling pin, and the woman crouches back down next to the boy as she takes the rolling pin from the man.

"So, tell me, are we your parents?" she asks menacingly, brandishing the pin in one hand.

Not realizing the implications of the new object, the boy continues to sob and shakes his head. "No!"

The woman breathes in sharply, and then brings the rolling pin down hard on the boy's back so that he falls over.

"We! Are!" the woman screams, beating the boy in between each word, "Your! Parents!"

This time the boy doesn't say no, just continues to cry.

"And shut up!"

But once started, it is hard to stop crying, and so the boy cannot obey immediately. When kicking him does nothing but make him cry harder, the woman drags him, literally, up the stairs to a small room with only tatty mattress on the floor with no pillow and a blanket that has lots of holes in it.

"You will sleep in here," she says angrily as she pushes him in, "And no more crying, or else!"

The boy takes a few deep breaths to try to stop crying, and turns around when he hears the door's lock click.

He shivers - the high-up window has no glass in it, and the night is a cold one. Trying to use the warn blanket to warm up a little, he curls up on the mattress and cries quietly to himself so the woman and the man won't hear.

"Mommy...Daddy...I miss you..." he whispers as he drifts off to sleep.

The next few years pass in a similar routine - he gets home from school and tries to make as little noise as possible so he won't provoke the couple, because once they find something to criticize him about, they don't stop beating him until he is locked in his room at 8:30 with some bread and cheese. This is especially hard in the winter, when he has no light to see to try to do his homework by.

He wouldn't do his homework if it weren't for the fact that the couple beats him when he gets bad grades, they are worried that someone at school might start asking questions.

But the years pass, and the boy learns to never cry, to never show any emotion when he can help it. Either way the couple beats him - they hate when he reacts to their beatings, but also hate when he doesn't.

One day, the boy comes home with a different attitude then usual. Though he knows it will probably end up with him getting hit more than the couple normally does, the boy feels like trying to fight back. It's his 9th birthday, and he has been with the couple for four years.

"How was your day?" asks the woman sweetly. The boy knows to think nothing of this, no matter how nice the couple seems at first each day, they still hurt him.

"Fine, Lydia," he says the last word cuttingly. The boy hasn't dared to call them anything but Mom and Dad since that first night, until now.

The woman tenses. "What did you say?"

"I said my day was fine," says the boy, trying not to push his luck too much.

"No, what did you call me?" her voice is soft, the danger lurking in her tone.

The boy mutters quietly to himself, "Lydia."

Glaring, the woman stands up. "What was that?"

"I called you Lydia!" the boy says, his voice strong.

"You are not to call your mother by her first name!" she says, walking over to him, readying herself to slap the boy.

"You're not my mother!" the boy shouts, the first time he has said these words to her face in four years. "You're not! You're-"

At this, the woman slaps him, harder than it seems she ever has.

"Don't touch me!" exclaims the boy, jumping back.

The woman is surprised for a moment, this has never happened before; but she quickly recovers.

"You little-" she begins, launching herself at the boy, but he jumps out of the way and she falls to the floor.

The boy breathes heavily, and turning his head for a moment to watch the man's car pulling up in the driveway, he doesn't notice as the woman creeps into the kitchen to get a knife, only notices as she screams and runs towards him, the knife in her outstretched hand.

Instinctively, the boy covers his face, but the rush of adrenaline feels different this time, some sort of energy is being pushed into his arms, and there is a brief flash. The woman has no time to react and runs strait into the blade of the axe that the boy's arm has just turned into.

The boy looks up, surprised by both the nonexistent blow, his transformed arm, and the fact that the woman is now on the floor, blood pouring from her stomach.

She makes an odd gurgling noise as the woman coughs up some blood, and then her eyes roll back and she is dead.

The boy stands there in shock, until the front door opens and the man walks in.

"I'm hom-" The man stares, the boy's shock mirrored on his face, at his now dead wife and the boy with an axe for an arm. An axe with blood on it.

He rushes over to the phone, never really having been the one to initiate the beating of the boy, only aiding his wife after she had started, and now that the woman was dead he wasn't going to try anything. But when he picks up the receiver, there is no tone; the boy has beaten him over and cut the phone's cord.

"You will never hurt me again," says the boy, his tone similar to the wife's when she was preparing to hit the boy, and this scares the man more than the axe. He knows he is going to die.

And he does, quickly, as the boy makes a quick cut to the man's neck, and another to the stomach.

This time, the blood does not turn his stomach, and the boy surprises himself by grinning at the couple, dead on the living room floor. He walks up the stairs to the couple's room, and by the time he sits down on their bed, a comfortable bed with real blankets and sheets, his arm is back to normal. Resolving to tell the police in the morning that he found them down there, dead, he falls asleep quickly.

The next day he walks over to the police station and reports, calmly, that when he came downstairs that morning, he found his foster parents dead on the floor. The police seem a bit skeptical at first, but he finally convinces one officer to come over, and then the whole squadron seems to be at his house; they hadn't had a double murder in years.

Arrangements are quickly made with the same agency to get a new set of foster parents, and a few days later the boy is at a new couple's house.

This couple also looks nice, but the boy now knows not to trust people based on appearances. Everything goes smoothly for a couple days, and the boy thinks that perhaps only the one couple was bad, perhaps they had better checks now and are able to rule out the dangerous people as foster parents.

However, this is not so.

On the fourth day, the couple takes him to a back room and tells him to strip. When he refuses, they begin to threaten him, and the man even forces off his pants.

They are both dead within minutes.

This cycle seems to continue, couple after couple; one pair of foster parents abuse him physically, the next, sexually. After a while, the agency begins to suspect a pattern in the deaths of all the boy's foster parents, so they send him overseas, no longer wanting to deal with all the paperwork that came after such incidents.

But things are not good in the new country either - if possible, they are worse. The boy gets into a routine of waiting to make sure the parents aren't evil, and then killing them promptly when they are, of course, evil.

Finally, a couple arrives that does nothing abusive to the boy for days, then weeks, then a month passes without anything occurring, and the boy begins to think that perhaps he has finally found the only couple in the world that a) don't have their own children, and so feel the need to adopt; and b) aren't evil.

One evening, however, he is having problems with his homework, and so goes to find the couple. After searching all over the house, he decides that they are in the basement. While he has never strictly been forbidden to go down to the basement, he has also never been cordially invited down and given a tour.

The boy knocks twice to alert them of his presence, and then opens the door and stomps down the stairs. The sight he sees is not in any way, shape, or form what he was expecting; his foster parents are drenched in blood and the head of the girl the had over for dinner is in the man's arms.

Gasping, the boy rushes back up the stairs and out of the house as quickly as he can, ignoring their shouts of, "Come back!" and "This isn't what it looks like!"

But the boy runs on, not stopping until he reaches the edge of the town, where he falls over, exhausted.

As the night cold sets in, he curls up into a ball and falls into a nightmarish sleep.

_The first set of foster parents walks up to him, evil grins on their faces._

_"No! This isn't possible! I killed you!"_

_The woman says nothing, merely taking out a rolling pin from behind her back, and the boy shrinks back in fear._

_"Don't hurt me, please, don't hurt me!" he screams, crying for the first time in years._

_"Damian!" the couple says, "DAMIAN! WAKE UP!"_

"Don't hurt me!" screamed Damian, lurching out of his bed and fending off the hands trying to hold him down.

"Damian! DAMIAN!"

Damian opened his eyes to see Alexia standing there in her nightgown, looking quizzically at him. "Damian, what's wrong? You were screaming in your sleep, 'Don't hurt me, please!' Are you okay?"

Damian sighed, sitting back down on his bed. "Alexia?"

"Yeah?" she came to sit next to him, the worry in her eyes sincere.

"There's something I have to tell you..."

**AN from _xxxBlack-Opalxxx_: yes, that is actually what happened to damian D:**

**AN from _ladylily101_: SOBSOBSOB!! D: Dramatic ending, eh? And the next chapter won't have anything to do with this, yay! You can dream up the rest of Damian's sucky childhood if you want, but more random blurbs will probably appear later. ;)**


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